


Drabbles

by Cherienymphe



Category: Enola Holmes (2020), Knives Out (2019), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 10,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28872003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherienymphe/pseuds/Cherienymphe
Summary: A collection of my drabbles
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Peter Parker/Reader, Ransom Drysdale/Reader, Sherlock Holmes & Reader, Sherlock Holmes/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60





	1. Unrequited (Where Loki finds out what Thor did)

**Author's Note:**

> uh oh spaghettios how did my mans loki react to his brother assaulting his Very new girlfriend

You didn’t even know how to face Loki after what Thor had done to you. The blond god was insatiable, taking you many times during the night. When he could no longer fight off the fatigue, collapsing the second he rolled off of you, you blindly stumbled out of bed.

You held your torn robe to your trembling frame, feet tripping over each other as you made your way through the corridors. If someone should see you, you didn’t even know how you’d explain your appearance to them. There was no doubt that your eyes were swollen, hair sticking up every which way, and the coppery taste of blood met your tongue when you swiped it over your lip.

This was the sight that greeted your prince when he swung his door open.

It seemed to take Loki a moment to register what he was seeing, and you feared that he would turn you away, disgusted. However, true to how you’ve always known him, he hesitantly reached for you instead.

He whispered your name as he pulled you into his chambers, eyes wide with confusion and sorrow. When he brushed a rogue tear away, you flinched, and his face grew taut with anger.

“Who did this to you?”

The venom in his voice made you shake, because how did you tell him that his own brother was the cause of what he saw before him? You didn’t know how to answer him, but you didn’t need to.

You watched as his nostrils flared, face falling as the answer came to him. 

“Thor’s scent clings to you,” he murmured.

Your fresh tears was all the confirmation he needed, and his eyes grew dim.

“He saw us last night,” you whispered.

You could see it in the prince’s face, that he was saddened to realize how far his brother’s greed would extend. You opened your mouth, ready to tell him that you would understand if he no longer wanted you, but he pulled you into his arms before you had the chance.

“Let’s clean you up,” he whispered into your hair.

You closed your eyes, relaxing in his hold, finally feeling safe again.

“I wished for it to be you.”

Your voice was quiet, but Loki heard you all the same.

“It will be for you choose to give me what Thor sought to take.”

He rested his forehead against yours, begging you to look at him.

“That matters little to me anyway,” he said when your eyes met his. “Your heart is mine, and so it shall always be me.”


	2. My Beautiful Annabel Lee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble request for my beautiful Annabelle lee ?? ❤️😉

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where you struggle with being a vampire

You pressed yourself further into the wall, sobs wracking your frame. Loki sighed before you, both frustration and sadness somehow coloring his tone. The sweet stench that met your nose was the best thing you’d ever smelled in your life.

It was always that way. Every time. But the minute you opened your eyes, gaze falling upon the innocent being who was barely clinging onto life, disgust churned your stomach.

You tearfully looked up at the dark haired vampire as he approached you, your maker and murderer, attacker turned lover all rolled into one. You could never truly place how you felt about him. You hated him for what he’d done to you, but something deep within you, some primal part of you craved his touch and attention.

The disappointment in his eyes always made you feel guilty. What did you have to feel guilty for? For refusing to drink the blood of an innocent just to survive? It couldn’t be helped though. You despised him, but you so desperately wished to please him.

He knelt down before you, and you shook your head before he even started speaking. You knew what he was going to say. It was always the same.

“Y/N, you must,” he pleaded, proving you right.

You frantically shook your head again, flinching when he brushed his finger over your cheek. With another sigh, he left you, and you squeezed your eyes shut as the familiar sound of his feeding reached your ears.

You could hear the boy struggle with what little strength he had left, but it was futile. You heard how his breathing picked up ever so slightly before his heart eventually slowed until you could hear no heartbeat at all.

You could smell the stench of his blood on Loki’s lips when he approached you, and you hesitantly looked up when he knelt before you again. His green eyes were brighter than usual, new life blood making its way through his body.

He ran his thumb over the skin under your eyes, and you swallowed, teeth aching at the sight of his red stained lips. 

“You need to feed. You are barely hanging on,” he murmured, running his eyes over you.

With a shaky hand, you reached for his chest, gently dragging your fingers up to brush over his neck. A slow smirk made its way onto his pink lips, and he reached for you, pulling you against him.

“We can’t keep doing this, darling,” he whispered, but his hand made its way to the back of your head anyway.

He guided you to his neck, a low moan escaping him as your teeth pierced his skin, his free hand playing with your hair. You couldn’t stop the hum that escaped your throat even if you wanted to. Loki’s blood was like liquid fire, heating your entire body until all you could comprehend was him.

His blood could only satisfy you for so long. You both knew it, but as he pulled you into his lap, hands swiftly reaching for the skirts of your dress as you pressed yourself against him, you got the feeling that he didn’t mind.


	3. Unhappily Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can I request a Drabble for how reader and Steve are doing in unhappily married 👀👀

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where you struggle to accept your fate

Your heart clenched just before Steve turned off the TV, Peter’s distressed gaze still lingering in your mind. You pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you stared at the blank screen.

Steve allowed you some entertainment in the studio sized basement. Some games, some books...a television. Unfortunately for you, every day at 5 o’clock on the dot, his favorite past time was to turn on the news and tune into how hard you were being searched for.

You were officially a missing person ever since Peter could no longer get a hold of you and immediately quit his internship. That was months ago, and despite the lack of evidence of foul play (because Steve was just that good), you wondered how long it would take before you were presumed dead.

You knew that Peter would never give up though, and that made your heart ache.

You heard Steve move behind you, rising from the chair in the corner of the room that was next to Nathan’s crib. The cherubic child was sleeping soundly, and you trembled as you felt the older man approach. You knew that you should be used to your new reality by now, but it was hard.

This wasn’t supposed to happen to you.

Steve sighed as he placed his hands on your shoulders, massaging them in what you were sure was supposed to be a soothing manner.

“The kid just won’t give up,” he murmured, sounding almost annoyed. “Although, I suppose I can’t blame him...”

You leaned away from him, tears kissing your eyes as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in as one hand slid over your chest.

“If I had you and lost you, I’d burn the whole world down to look for you.”

He pressed kisses into your skin, and you grimaced as he pushed himself against you, forcing you to lie on your side.

“Steve,” you protested, reaching back to push him away, but he wasn’t having it.

“You’re glowing, sweetheart,” he hummed, hand moving down to rub circles into your skin, feeling the small swell of your stomach. “You can’t expect me to keep my hands off of you when you look like this.”

You bit your lip when he slid his hands underneath your dress, brushing his fingers over you, and you shuddered. He nibbled at your neck, groaning as he pushed a finger into you.

“You’ll be begging for all of me soon enough when those hormones kick in.”


	4. Unhappily Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Man I love Unhappily Married can you do a drabble for when the baby arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where the baby finally arrives

You’re barely conscious, in and out, and it’s got Steve more worried than he’s ever been because it wasn’t like this with Sharon. You can hear him barking orders at someone. A doctor. You remembered his name was Bruce. This was the worst pain you’d ever felt in your life, and you didn’t think it was possible, but your hatred for Steve grew.

He was holding your hand, whispering sweet nothings into your ear when he wasn’t yelling, and the longer your labor went on, the more you were sure you were going to die. Surely, this was what death felt like. You remembered reading something once about how women are closest to death during childbirth. 

You don’t know how long your labor lasts, how long the pain lasts, and again, you somehow find your hatred for Steve growing because he wanted a natural birth. Last time you checked, it was your body, but his lack of respect for what you wanted to do with your own body was nothing new.

You barely register someone telling you to push, and it is then that you take note of the pressure you feel, like you have to use the bathroom. You’re crying because you don’t think you can do this. You think something is going to go wrong with you or the baby, and as much as you hate him, you’re grateful that Steve is next to you, encouraging you.

Your voice is raw by the time you’re done screaming, and you weren’t positive, but it felt like you blacked out for a moment there. You don’t hear anything at first as you collapse back onto the pillows, and you get worried, but soon after you hear a soft cry, a feminine cry, and you peel your eyes open.

Steve’s lips are on your skin, brushing them over your temple and cheek as he tells you how great you were and how proud of you he is. You breathing is shallow as the brunette doctor hands Steve your daughter. You’re so tired, but even still, you strain to sit up so you can see her.

Both Steve and the doctor speak out against that, and Steve hurries to near you so that you can see her. She looks like a little alien, but even past that, she somehow already looks like both you and Steve, and your face crumbles.

As you hold her, Steve tells you not to cry, brushing your tears away, and you don’t even have the energy to slap his hand away. You’re too focused on your daughter. This little thing that you created. You grew her yourself, spending 9 months with her before finally getting to see her, and you’re overwhelmed.

Steve is saying something to you, probably more bullshit about how much he loves you, but you aren’t listening. You’re looking at your daughter, and she’s looking at you. Her eyes light up when you muster a soft ‘hi’, almost like she recognizes your voice, and you suddenly don’t feel so alone.


	5. Daddy Dearest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drabble request for your fic ‘Daddy Dearest’? ❤️ its one of my favorite fics of all time. 🥺

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where you struggle to accept your new reality

You awoke as the sound of Leo’s cries reached you, sitting up with a start, already moving to stumble out of bed. So confused with fatigue, you didn’t notice the large figure before you until you bumped into him. A surprised gasp escaped you, familiar hands wrapping around your upper arms to keep you in place.

“It’s alright,” Steve murmured. “He just dropped his toy, but Bucky’s got him.”

His lips brushed over your forehead, and he walked you backwards.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered.

Nodding, you got back into bed, and Steve sat down before you as you laid on your side. You considered attempting to go back to sleep, but you couldn’t with Steve here. It had been months since he’d taken you and Leo away from your home to live with him in the compound, and you still shook whenever you were in his presence.

You didn’t know what he told the rest of the team, but they had been glad to greet you when you finally left Steve’s room with the influence of some thinly veiled threats from the blond avenger. You were terrified to even try and mention the truth. Not only did they all love their captain and would very likely believe you to be lying and mention it to Steve, but Steve had a way of keeping tabs on you when you were non the wiser.

You had only tried to leave him once, and he’d had you pinned to the ground before you could even reach Leo. The _only_ positive to your situation was how much the team loved your son. You don’t think he’s slept in his crib for months, someone always awake to hold him.

Steve sighed, and your heart skipped a beat.

“I can hear your heart... You need to get more rest,” he quietly complained.

“I’m trying,” you whispered, turning your back to him, hoping that would help.

You heard him exhale before moving to lay down behind you. Your eyes widened, and you moved to get away from him, but he grabbed you before you could. You struggled to get out of his grip, and he huffed.

“Y/N, stop this.”

“Let go of me,” you whined.

You elbowed his chest, and his grip tightened, a sound of disapproval leaving him. You slipped out of the sweater you had on, and he heaved another sigh as you moved to the other side of the bed, tears in your eyes.

“Y/N,” his voice was stern, and a shudder passed through you.

“Please...please just let me go,” you quietly begged for the umpteenth time. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

He was glaring at you when you finally looked at him, and you bit your lip as his nostrils flared. A few tears escaped.

“Please...”

He slowly stood, and your eyes widened.

“I thought we were making progress...”

He sounded so disappointed and sad, and you whimpered when he reached for his belt.

“No,” you cried, moving to stumble off of the bed and to the door.

He met you there, wrestling your wrists into his hand before pulling you back to the bed. He was straddling you and had his belt looped around your wrists in no time, the other end wrapped around his hand as he held them down.

“Steve,” you begged, bucking against him, but he simply shushed you.

“We’ve got to come up with something new, sweetheart,” he quietly said, shoving his pants down. “I can’t keep fucking you every time you misbehave.” 


	6. What It Takes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble for your bucky fic "what it takes"?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where you’re anxiously waiting for Bucky to come home

You carefully took the stairs one at a time, going slow in the darkness with one hand on the rail the entire time. The light was on in the kitchen, that much you could tell, and you wondered if the noise you heard was Bucky getting a snack. 

He had been out late, after all.

You should’ve known better though. 

You were greeted by the sight of the dark haired man leaning against the counter, a medical kit opened on the granite top, his white button down open and exposing the ugly bruising and wounds on his torso.

Your quiet gasp alerted him to your presence. His blue eyes met yours, and you watched as his shoulders tensed a bit before sagging.

“Doll,” he sighed as you approached him. “What are you still doing up?”

“I heard you,” you murmured, brushing your fingers over the darkening flesh before reaching for some gauze.

If he wanted to argue against what you were doing, he decided to keep his mouth shut, opting instead for resting his hand on your waist, watching you.

“You need to be resting.”

He wasn’t wrong. You were due any day now.

“Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing tonight?”

“...because you would’ve waited up.”

You bit your lip. He was right, you would have. He did everything he could to keep your stress levels down, but it was hard when he spent his days chasing down people who owed him money and overseeing shipments of illegal stock.

He pulled you against him when you were done, turning around and hoisting you onto the counter. Your face was glum as he settled in between your legs, resting his hands on your bare thighs.

“Things will get better once the baby comes. I promise,” he softly said.

You looked down, unsure if you believed him or not. If it were up to you, you wouldn’t have anything to do with this life, but after 2 more unsuccessful escape attempts, you figured it was best to make lemonade out of lemons.

Bucky tilted your chin up, gently pressing his lips to yours.

“What if you don’t come home one night?” you wondered.

He smirked against your lips.

“That’s never going to happen.”

“It almost happened tonight,” you argued, brushing your hand over his wounded chest.

“I’m fine,” he murmured, drawing the word out just before deepening the kiss.

His fingers pressed into the skin of your thighs, pulling you closer as he trailed his lips to your jaw.

“Let me show you just how fine I am.”


	7. Til Death Do Us Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How bout a drabble for til death do us part? like what happens after that "possessive confession s*x".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where you refuse to forgive him

You had your arms wrapped around yourself, tense in Bucky’s hold as he had an arm wrapped around your waist, fingers tracing patterns into your skin through your dress as you waited for the valet.

You were leaving yet another charity event that required your husband to cut some ribbon and shake some hands and smile. Husband. You bit back a scoff at the title, goosebumps erupting over your flesh every time he so much as looked at you. You moved out of his reach, and a sigh escaped him as his hand fell from your waist.

You two barely spoke before, but your house was practically the cold war ever since that night. The night that he’d drunkenly raped you, ripping your virginity and dignity from you in one go. You had cried in the shower the next morning for hours, scrubbing the blood and semen off of you.

Bucky had been at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for you, an apology on his lips, but you didn’t want to hear it. It wasn’t his only attempt, but you refused to give him the time of day. That had been months ago, and while he gave up on verbal apologies, it didn’t stop the flowers from showing up on your bed or the jewelry that would rest on top of the kitchen counter.

Nothing he could say or do would erase what he did.

You were quick to make your way to the passenger side as soon as the valet drove the car around. Your seatbelt was already in place when Bucky finally slid in. You could feel his gaze on you, but he said nothing as he pressed the gas. After some time, you heard him sigh.

“I had your things moved to my room while we were out,” he confessed.

Your eyes widened, and you looked at him in disbelief, shock coursing through you. His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, jaw clenched, eyes focused on the road.

“...what?”

“We can’t go on like this forever,” he started.

“You’re right. We can’t. Hence, why we should have been divorced _months_ ago,” you spat, the anger from what he did finally coming out.

“You’re not-!”

He cut himself off, taking a deep breath.

“You’re not leaving me,” he said, voice more calm.

“This isn’t right, and you know it! You can’t do this to me!”

“We never even gave our marriage a chance.”

“Because it was a sham,” you screamed, frustrated. “This isn’t a real marriage.”

He glanced at you, lips pressed together.

“Well, it is now. We’re man and wife in every way we can be,” he threw at you

You felt tears spring to your eyes, and you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Fine. Move everything I have into your room. I don’t care. I’m not sleeping next to you. I can’t stomach it,” you whispered.

The car slowed, and he pulled off to the side of the road before cutting the engine. The car was silent, and a few tears skipped down your cheek, flinching when he reached to brush a finger down your arm.

“ _I’m sorry_.”

“I don’t care.”

He huffed, a low growl escaping him.

“I’m _trying_ , Y/N. I’m trying to right my wrong and make this marriage work-.”

“I don’t want to be with you,” you screamed in his face. “You make me sick.”

His jaw clenched, blue eyes darkening as he glared at you.

“Well, that’s too bad because you’re my wife. You’re not leaving me,” he said.

“We’ll see.”

You turned to stare out of the windshield as Bucky stared at you. You could hear his heavy breathing, and eventually, he chuckled, a humorless sound.

“Fuck this.”

He fisted his hand in your hair, and you yelped as he pulled you towards him, his lips meeting yours. His other hand forced its way between your legs, and you dug your nails into his face, satisfied when he let you go with a shout.

You were shaking as you opened the door, stumbling out of the car. He was quick to follow, yanking you back as you attempted to run away. Your back harshly met the hood, wincing as he pressed himself against you. You screamed, kicking and hitting at him, but he was quick in restraining you.

He pinned your hands down against the warm hood, and you were sobbing now as you felt him hard and pulsing through his pants. His blue eyes were cold, lip curled over his teeth.

“I’m done trying. You’re my wife, and you’re not leaving me. Accept it.”

He bent down to sink his teeth into your neck, letting one hand go to drag his fingers up your leg.


	8. Twice Bitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I loved twice bitten so much !! Can you imagine them in the 21st century where the reader goes out and is more promiscuous and they get mad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where it’s the 21st century and you’re kind of a brat

Omg yes this is long after they’ve turned you and you’d think that with you being a vampire you’re at least on equal footing but no. They are much much older than you are. You’re practically still a baby vampire so your strength will never be on par with theirs.

You and James are in love and you’ve reluctantly accepted Steve as a part of your life but he still pisses you off on a regular basis and when James takes his side, you’re mad at him too. So you go out in a dress that you’re only allowed to have on around them and you’re a vampire now where everything about you is designed to attract so the girls and the guys come to you like moths to a flame and you’re having a good time enjoying yourself before you feel the presence of strong emotions that are all too familiar.

James and Steve are on the other side of the room, none too happy at the sight of you being pawed at. By humans no less. You’re dragged out of the club much like a spoiled child and they waste no time before shoving you into the waiting limo (bc what’s the point of being a 500+ year old vampire if you aren’t rich af). James is scolding you like a child but he’s itching to put his hands on you.

Steve just does.

James isn’t even finished speaking before Steve fists his hands in your hair, pushing you onto your stomach while his other hand moves to release himself. You realize you’re in bigger trouble than you thought, and James just heaves an exasperated sigh while Steve has his way with you, reminding you who you belong to.

You’re a trembling and crying mess when he’s done, core sensitive and still fluttering from his ministrations. You’re fine. Just in shock. Overdramatic is the word Steve likes to use. It’s quiet save for your soft sobs and the sound of James undoing his belt as he sits on the other side, just watching you.

There’s a beat of silence before James finally speaks.

“So what have we learned?”


	9. xoxo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can I request a Drabble about a jealous peter in xoxo?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where Peter is jealous

Peter’s footsteps echoed yours as you stomped towards the elevator, jaw ticking with anger and annoyance and disgust all rolled into one. You slammed your hand against the button, satisfied when the doors immediately opened. You had just pressed the button to close the door when Peter slipped inside, and you sighed.

The door shut behind him as you pressed yourself against the mirrored wall, arms crossed over your chest as you glared past him. The silence inside the small space was deafening, air thick with tension that had been months in the making.

Ever since that fateful night.

“You’re cute.”

Despite the complimentary meaning behind the phrase, his voice was hard and conveyed nothing of the sort. He slowly approached you, and still, your eyes remained on the doors.

“You think if you embarrass me enough I’ll call off this engagement?”

You didn’t answer him, and he pressed one hand into the wall beside your head, leaning in until the scent of him filled your nose.

“...or do you think if you bat those long lashes and show enough skin, you’ll convince one of these second-rate trust fund lowlifes to ‘save’ you?”

“It wasn’t like that,” you bit out, and you cursed yourself.

Why on earth were you explaining yourself to him? You owed Peter Stark _nothing_.

“Wasn’t it?”

You moved away from him, and he followed, reaching for you. You pushed against his hands, huffing as he invaded your space again.

“Or maybe you _like_ the attention. Do you like the way they smile at you? The way the run their eyes over you, imagining 5 different ways they could have you before they even greet you?”

You pushed against him, your angry gaze finally meeting his venomous one as he pinned you to the wall. His jaw was clenched, dark eyes boring into your own, hair neatly pushed away from his face.

He forced his leg between your own, thigh brushing against your core. He leaned in, lips grazing your jaw as you turned your face away from him, chest heaving.

“...maybe you just like seeing me like this. Stressed and angry and ready to put my hands on someone...on _you_...”

You pushed against him again, heart speeding up in your chest, a sinking feeling in your stomach.

“You’re my girl. You always have been, and I’m starting to think that you like these little reminders.”

You turned your head to sneer at him.

“Fuck you, Peter,” you spat.

A cruel smirk danced along his lips, eyes narrowing as he quickly ran them over you. He swiftly reached down to tear the bottom of your expensive dress, and panic gripped you as you reached down to stop him. He snatched your wrists up before slamming them against the wall beside your waist, nose brushing yours as his nostrils flared.

“You’re about to.”


	10. xoxo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do a Drabble xoxo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where its the morning after

_here’s some ‘the morning after’ teas_

Peter ducked as you threw the glass lamp at him, the expensive decor piece shattering upon impact with the wall. He barely righted himself in time to move out of the way of a heavy book coming his way.

“Dammit, Y/N-!”

He cut himself off to dodge another book, ducking and quickly approaching you to grab your hands. You wrestled in his grip, anger coursing through your veins at the situation you found yourself in. The wall shook as he shoved you against the large dresser, and you winced at the pain in your back. You both were panting, chests heaving as he held you in place.

“I’m going to scream,” you threatened.

“You’re in my apartment, not my father’s, so scream all you’d like. No one will hear you,” he argued.

You felt tears of frustration and anger kiss your eyes as you glared at him, body trembling as the full weight of what he did to you hit you. You were confused when you woke up this morning in an unfamiliar bed, wearing a t-shirt that wasn’t yours with an arm thrown over your waist that wasn’t yours.

The memories of last night were hazy, but they were there. So angry, leaving hadn’t even crossed your mind. You had just wanted to kill Peter Stark. The red hand print on his face had only gotten worse in the minutes passed.

“I’m going to have you arrested,” you spat.

Peter tilted his head to the side, a mocking grin on his lips.

“...and how will you leave this apartment to do that? Hmm?”

You pushed against him but he only pushed back.

“Fuck you,” you breathed through trembling lips.

Peter heaved a sigh, looking at you like _you_ were in the wrong.

“Come on, babe. We were always going to get together. It was inevitable. You had to know this,” he said, speaking like you were dumb.

“I never had any intentions of getting with you despite your desire to believe otherwise,” you sneered.

Peter let out a soft chuckle, dark eyes running along your half naked frame.

“Well, thats too bad because I had every intention of you being the last girl I ever fuck.”

You spat in his face, and he slowly blinked, another sigh leaving him. He started to pull you towards the bed, and you dug your heels in, struggling against him. There was a frown on his face as he jerked you.

“Babe...come on, babe. Let’s be adults about this...”

You screamed when he pulled you off of your feet, arms wrapped around your waist before swinging the both of you onto his bed, your body pinned beneath his. You fought against his hands as he struggled to pin them down, and you screamed in frustration when he finally succeeded. Peter flipped his hair away from his face, breathing heavy as he held you down.

“You’re finally mine, now. So are we going to accept it or will we be doing things the hard way?” he wondered.

“I’m going to smother you in your sleep,” you loudly threatened, heart going haywire in your chest. 

Peter heaved a disappointed sigh, but a haughty smirk danced along his lips as he let out a low chuckle.

“You always were difficult,” he said, leaning down to kiss you.


	11. xoxo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! I love the xoxo fic and drabbles and i was wondering if there's gonna be another part??
> 
> Have a nice day!!!love your work♥️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where you're drunk and angry

You stumble in your heels, the table by the door wobbling as you hang onto it. You hear Peter sigh, and you roll your eyes. If anyone should be annoyed, its you. After all, you’re the one being forced into this ludicrous marriage, and as if that wasn’t enough, you had to be forced to get all dolled up for a stupid engagement party.

So yeah, you had a couple of drinks to help you cope. You deserved it.

He tries to help you right yourself, but you simply slap his hands away. You fix him with a withering look, and he simply raises an eyebrow at you, looking at you like you’re the least threatening thing in the world.

“Why are you doing this?” you drunkenly slur, and he heaves a sigh.

It’s not a question that hasn’t been asked before, and even though he always gives you the same answer, the minute you get alcohol into you, you’re demanding another answer, hoping it will change.

Hoping your situation will change.

“You could have...an-any girl out there. Any girl would kill to be where I am, but you’re making _me_ go through with this?”

His hands are on your arms, guiding you down the hall as you interrogate him. This is a common display between you two, and you hate how your words seem to go out of one ear and through the other. 

You can’t help the sob that builds in your chest as he deposits you onto his bed, and you just sit there, tears in your eyes as the alcohol in your system takes over. You glare up at him, and he simply looks down at you with his arms folded over his chest, unimpressed.

“I don’t want you,” you cry for the umpteenth time, and he simply scoffs.

“The way you cream around my cock every night says otherwise.”

The slap echoes in the otherwise quiet room, and you sneer at him as he adjusts his jaw with a smirk on his lips.

“How dare you make a mockery out of what you did to me. What you _force_ me to do,” you spat.

“Mm hmm,” he placates you, all the while nearing you.

You hit at him, but he grips your hands, forcing them out of the way as he settles himself in between your legs.

“You do a lot of complaining for someone who’s going to be singing my name in less than ten minutes,” he hums, pressing his lips to yours.

You jerk your head away, and again, he sighs. 

“You know, I could be a lot meaner, Y/N. I could be so mean to you, but I’m not-.”

“...because you care about me? Fuck you, Stark,” you hissed, fighting against him as you both struggled for the upper-hand. 

You soon found yourself flipped onto your stomach, and it churned, the alcohol no longer agreeing with you. Your movements were sluggish as you felt him grip your underwear, pulling until you heard a snap.

Heart sinking, you moved to crawl away from him, but he had you pinned, straddling you as the deafening sound of his belt buckle filled the room, followed by the low hum of his zipper. You tried to move again, but his hand was there, pressing into your back just as he sank into you.

You released a shaky breath as you tightly gripped him, and a smug chuckle left his lips.

“I love when you get like this, because it’s always up to me to fuck that attitude right out of you.”


	12. She's With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey love! Can you maybe please write a drabble request for xoxo peter where it’s their engagement party or wedding? Or maybe something for she’s with me? Those two are my favorites 💗

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where you tell Peter you love him

_Lets revisit our favorite biker couple_

Peter almost threw the both of you off of his bike in his haste to park it behind the bar. The sound of approaching motorcycles could still be heard when he cut the engine, and he urged you to hastily get inside. You hesitated for a moment, heart clenching, but finally turned to leave when he repeated himself.

To your surprise, the backdoor was open, and the only light in the dank place came from the moonlight shining through the window. The loud roar of engines grew closer and panic started to bubble in your chest just as Peter finally made it inside, slamming and locking the door behind him.

You were shaking, still trembling even when Peter wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you against his chest. The smell of gun powder clung to him, and you closed your eyes, feeling like you were going to be sick.

You don’t know what went down between Tony and Steve tonight, but somehow, you and Peter had gotten caught in the fray. However, it soon became clear that your involvement was no unfortunate incident at all. Steve had been looking for you. Both of you.

You shuddered as you thought of the look in his eyes as he pointed the gun right at you, aimed to kill. Never in your wildest dreams did you think Steve capable of attempting to do such a thing to you, but the way his cold blue eyes had flickered between you and Peter, his gaze lingering on your intertwined hands, it was obvious why.

You would probably be dead if Peter hadn’t-!

You gasped as your thoughts came to a halt, spinning around in Peter’s arms to reach for him. He knew what you were doing when you gripped his jacket, peeling it off of him.

“I’m fine. He just grazed me,” he murmured.

He winced when he lifted his arms to allow you to pull his shirt off, and you were relieved to discover that he was right. It was just a graze, but the blood smeared along his skin shook you, reminding you how easily he could have been killed.

You pressed your hands to his chest, head hanging as you fought to regulate your breathing. Peter’s fingers brushed along your skin as he gently ran his hands up and down your arms, shushing you as sobs threatened to escape.

“Hey, I’m alright,” he quietly assured you, and you shook your head.

“Y-you could have died,” you gasped.

“You too,” he argued, trying and failing to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, but you more so than me,” you shakily replied.

You lifted your head, and your lips caught his. Peter tightened his arms around you as you pressed yourself against him.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he mumbled in between kisses, lips brushing against yours.

You deepened the kiss, and he groaned into your mouth as he spun you both around. His hands were firm as he pushed you against something, and when your back met a flat surface, you realized it was the pool table.

You were hasty in getting your shirt off, wanting to feel him against you and not being able to do so fast enough. The sound of Peter’s belt hitting the floor rang throughout the room, and you tangled your hands in his hair as he nestled himself between your legs.

You sat up to help him with getting your pants off, and your hands immediately flew to his when you were done. He bent his head to nip at the skin of your neck, trailing his lips to your jaw and finally your own lips again.

You abruptly pulled away, gazing at him with wide eyes, nose brushing against his own. His own eyes widened at the sudden pause, and his brows furrowed ever so slightly, worry flitting across his features.

“...what? What is it?”

You blinked, running your fingers up his arms and taking pleasure in the way he shuddered.

“I... I think I love you.”

Your voice was quiet, but he heard you nonetheless if the widening of his eyes was anything to go by. They darkened considerably, a hunger in them that you had never seen before. He released a shaky breath, and you yelped into his mouth as he harshly pressed his lips to yours, wrapping his arms around you like he was afraid to let go.


	13. Too Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooooo I got it!! Can I have a Drabble for Too Good? Maybe reader HAS to go back to the Thrombey mansion to get her last paycheck or hell maybe ransom corners her again at her bridal shower or something? 😍😍

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where Ransom crashes the wedding

_Bridal shower? Nah, Ransom is crashing the whole wedding_

You heard the door click shut behind you, and you frowned, having not expected your mother to be back so soon. She had run off to find something to quickly alter the dress. Neither one of you had expected you to lose so much weight before the wedding, but ever since the engagement party, there wasn’t much your stomach could keep down.

A shudder passed through you.

If you closed your eyes, you could still feel Ransom’s hands on you. His voice in your ear. His hard cock as he forced himself inside of you again and again. The feel of him had seemed to linger for days, the scent of him clinging to you so much that you’d wake up in the middle of the night, convinced he was standing over you.

Imagine your surprise to look up in the mirror and find him standing there now.

Your eyes widened, disbelief coursing through you as you refused to believe what you were seeing. He was dressed to perfection as always, dark suit making his handsome features that much more striking, dark hair styled as neatly as ever, blue eyes intensely focused on you.

You spun around and swallowed.

“...what are you doing here?”

Your voice was quiet, small, and part of you was convinced he wasn’t really here. That you were imagining him. That haughty smirk that terrorized you in your sleep danced across his lips.

“I couldn’t miss your big day.”

You frantically shook your head, taking a small step back.

“You have to leave. _Now_.”

“What? And miss all of the festivities? Miss out on your wedding to the great Charles Blackwood?” he wondered, following you.

“You weren’t invited. None of your fucked up family was. I made sure of it,” you spat at him.

He scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I took it upon myself to-.”

“Haven’t you done enough?”

Your heart threatened to leap from within your chest at his presence, a cold sweat covering your trembling frame. Something passed through his eyes that was unfamiliar to you. It as brief, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was regret.

Ransom ran his cold blue eyes over you, an appreciative hum escaping him as he took in the way the dress hugged you, the style of your hair, the tears in your eyes that threatened to ruin your beautiful makeup.

He takes another step towards you, and you stumble back in fear, fully knowing what he’s capable of. 

“I’ve been wondering for some time now...what Charles would do...if he found out?”

Your nervousness grew, and your eyes flickered between him and the door behind him. Ransom’s smirk grew, and your hand flew to the wall, heart skipping a beat when your back hit it. He had you cornered.

“I wonder how long it will take before someone discovers us...”

“Ransom,” you warned, shaking your head.

“I wonder who it will be...if it’ll be your fiance, your husband to be,” he said to himself, reaching for you.

You fought with his hands, tears threatening to spill over, the best day of your life quickly turning into a nightmare. His hands pinned yours to your stomach as he pressed his lips against yours, forceful and greedy. You yelped into his mouth, and he pressed himself against you.

“I wonder if he’ll call off the wedding when he sees my cum dripping down your legs.”


	14. Rapture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Sherlock and reader actually got married (in Rapture), would he bring his wife to every mission or idk just lock her up in a tower?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where you’re finally Mrs. Holmes

_This answer was gonna be kinda lengthy and then I thought, hey why not a Drabble 😃_

You stood at the window of the lavish room, looking out over the spacious grounds that lay before you. The scenery was beautiful, tall trees and soft grass in the distance that called to you from the first moment you’d stepped out of the carriage. The urge to lose yourself in the foliage was high, but you could not.

You refused to fall deeper into this ploy anymore than you already had.

Your husband, the widely known detective Sherlock Holmes, had been doing everything in his power to soften your heart against him, to get you to look at him as he did you. How could you though? Nevermind that he’d taken your maidenhood so forcefully on the cool earth like some animal, but how could you ever grow to care for someone who held such damning knowledge about you?

It was the sole reason you’d never run...hardly fought against him that night and every night sense. He’d repeatedly assured you, in that deep and calming baritone, that he’d never use what he knew against you, that he’d never do such a thing to you, but how were you to believe him? After all, how could you trust a man who’d already done what he’d done to you? Surely, he was capable of anything.

You remained in his childhood home for a time while his profession pulled him far and wide, the large house only housing one servant and yourself. His sister, taking after him, was never present, solving mysteries of her own, so you didn’t have much company. He’d told you that it was to give you time to soften to your new reality, to soften towards him, but it did not last.

He missed you too much, he’d said one night while he held you in his arms, body still trembling from the pleasure that had wracked it only moments ago. He’d said that your presence brought a certain peace to him that he’d never known before, and soon, you were at his side while he solved mystery after mystery.

He purposely chose inns and lodging houses that had spacious grounds, a place where you could immerse in nature as you often liked to do. Despite what you wanted, your heart couldn’t help but to warm at that, but still... Surely it was more manipulation. It had to be.

Every touch, every declaration of love, every soft look in his eye...they all had to be more manipulation. Perfectly plotted to get you under his thumb. It absolutely had to be because...how could anyone, knowing what you did, still choose to love you? It did not seem feasible.

You jumped when you felt warm hands slide over your shoulders and down your arms. You hadn’t heard him return, and you closed your eyes as he pressed his lips into your hair, breathing you in. His chest brushed against your back, his warmth mingling with your own.

“Surely, you tire of confining yourself to these rooms,” he said.

You bit your lip, stepping away from him.

“You stay in inns such as these for me, and I have never asked for it. I have never asked for any of this,” you murmured the last part to yourself, and he sighed.

“I merely wish for you to enjoy yourself-.”

“So that I may grow to love the man who violated me and stole me away? How thoughtful of you...”

“I simply want for you to be happy,” he replied to which you let out an unladylike snort.

“If that were true, you’d allow me to leave, but even then, I’d never truly be free, right? How could I ever willingly walk away when you know the truth about me and could destroy me so easily-.”

“I would never,” he hissed, spinning you around to face him.

He was wearing a dark blue suit today, dark curls looking as soft as ever, brows drawn together as he frowned at you.

“How many times must I say it? Why do you believe such things?”

“Because they must be true! I...am a murderer, and yet, you claim to love me despite this. That’s...absurd.”

He rested his hands underneath your jaw, tilting your head up so that his eyes bore into your own. He neared you, nose brushing against yours, and you swallowed, body having grown accustomed to his touch. Expect it even.

“As absurd as it may be, it is still true. How can I not? You carry the face of an angel, the heart of a protector, and the mind of a killer. From the moment I learned the truth, I never stood a chance,” he softly said, pressing your back against the window as his lips met yours.


	15. Cruel Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovely! I really love your works and I was wondering if you’d ever post a drabble or follow up for Cruel Intentions?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where Nakia comes to visit

“I’m so glad to see that you’re doing well,” Nakia told you.

There was a fond smile on her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She released a small sigh as you both stopped at the door.

“...you _are_ okay, right?”

You knew what she was getting at, and you fought not to squirm as you heard Steve washing the rest of the dishes in the kitchen.

“Sorry if I’m overstepping. It’s just...”

She glanced towards the kitchen.

“When you told me on the phone that you had something to tell me in person, I didn’t expect for it to be that you were seeing your therapist now. It was a little shocking.”

You sent her a small smile, hoping it wasn’t a shaky one. You wanted to tell her the truth, but how could you even form the words? How could you tell her that you’d jumped out of the frying pan and right into the fire? How could you admit that you’d repeated the same mistakes as before, only this time, with a worse outcome?

Steve was older, smarter, and more powerful than Harry was. Not to mention, you suspected that he was even a murderer. You’d always been too afraid to ask, but even worse...

How would you ever explain the way your feelings had twisted up so tightly that you couldn’t tell what was what? Steve had taken advantage of you, manipulated you in every way possible, and had raped you several times over...even continued to do so, and yet...

He didn’t hit you. Nor raise his voice. Nor talk down to you like you were beneath him. He’d betrayed you in ways far worse than Harry ever had...and somehow he still managed to be the best man you’d ever been with. You couldn’t even begin to articulate all of that, so you simply said...

“I promise, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Nakia’s smile slowly widened before she nodded. With a lingering hug, you both said your goodbyes, and when the door clicked shut, Steve was there. You eyed him, unsure of just how long he’d been standing there before he slowly approached you.

“Are you feeling better?”

Steve thought that letting your friend come up to visit would improve your mood, and in a way, it had, but how could you ever tell him what really had you down? What really had you confused, torn up?

“A little,” you murmured.

He frowned, and the sight made your heart clench. He cupped your face, brows drawn together as he eyed you.

“You _can_ still talk to me...like you used to...”

There was genuine concern in the blue of his eyes, and as you gazed into them, you wondered if there was something wrong with you. Something that Harry had broken beyond all repair that made you lean into the touch of the man who essentially held you captive. 

He never threatened you, nor locked you up, or even watch you like a hawk. It was as if he trusted you completely, like he knew you’d never run away, and the thought of even doing so made you frown. Thoughts of his betrayal still hurt, like a fresh wound, but maybe it was for the best. Surely you would’ve fallen prey to another man like Harry...right? You would’ve found yourself in the arms of another man who’d beat you and yell at you and threaten you, right?

...right?

You simply shook your head at Steve, signaling that you didn’t want to discuss it now, before pressing your forehead against his chest. As you thought about what you’d told Nakia, how this was the happiest you’d ever been, you realized that it wasn’t a lie.


	16. xoxo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does xoxo peter do for vday for our poor reader?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where its Valentine's Day

The nightly breeze ruffled your dress as you stared at the dark water, goosebumps breaking out over your exposed skin. You loved the moon, but even the reflection of it in the murky waters could not soothe you. Peter was finishing up a phone call somewhere behind you, and you silently wished that he’d go overboard, shirt getting snagged on something beneath the water, never to be seen again.

You tensed when you heard him hang up with a sigh, glancing away as the sound of his approach reached your ears. Your eyes remained on the water, even when a champagne glass filled your vision. Ever the asshole, he didn’t seem to care about your silent refusal, waving it in your face. With a sneer, you snatched it before promptly dumping it into the ocean.

“Well, that can’t be good for the fish,” he murmured, and you turned away with a huff.

He followed, a frustrated exhale of his own escaping.

“Do you really plan to keep this up forever?”

He followed your descent below deck.

“Do you plan to keep me chained to you forever?”

Your tone was icy, but Peter welcomed it.

“That’s usually what ‘til death do us part’ implies,” he purred.

You whirled to face him just as he took a sip of champagne, the brown of his eyes appearing darker than usual. They always did whenever he seemed to be near you.

“Surely, you must grow tired of having a wife who can barely stomach the sight of you. Surely, by now, you’d want a wife who you didn’t have to drug just to get onto a yacht for Valentine’s Day. There are plenty of women who would’ve willingly jumped on this boat with you,” you told him, tired and frustrated and confused all in one.

Peter leaned against the wall, shrugging as he eyed you.

“None of them are you,” he murmured.

You blinked back tears as you looked away, your frustration threatening to overtake you.

“You really rather we both be miserable, huh?”

Your eyes met his again, swallowing as he neared you. He down what was left in his glass before tilting his head at you, dark eyes dragging over every inch of your angry frame.

“I’m never miserable when I’m with you...”

He pressed his chest to yours, and you took a step back. Then another. And another.

“...no matter what you throw at me, how much you yell at me, how many times you slap me...”

You flinched when the sound of the empty glass hitting the floor reached your ears.

“I’ll take you in any way I can get.”

Your face finally crumbled, and you looked down with a sob. His body heat crept over you, and you held back another sob as he pressed his lips to your forehead, remaining there as he breathed you in. 

“...because at the end of the day, it doesn’t prevent you from coming around me every night...every morning...whenever I please.”

Your shoulders shook when he cupped your face, lips moving to the corner of your mouth.

“...and one day, if it hasn’t happened already, you’ll wake up craving the feel of me inside of you. You’ll feel empty without my touch, and I’ll be more than happy to put my hands on you any way you ask.”

His lips finally met yours, and you didn’t resist, tasting your tears on them. When he pulled away, your tear-filled eyes met his, watching the way he drank you in.

“Now...are we going to go into that room and celebrate Valentine’s Day properly...or...”

His hand found it’s way to your neck, fingers pressing into your skin.

“...do we have to do this the hard way?”

You looked away.

“You know it makes no difference to me...because I’m going to fuck you regardless.”

Hesitantly, you reached up to grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his own, exhaling. 

“I’m so tired of fighting,” you quietly admitted through trembling lips.

Peter’s lips met your neck, and he hummed.

“I know, baby.”

He pressed kisses to your exposed cleavage, and a few tears skipped down your cheek as your eyes found the ceiling.

“I know,” he murmured into your skin as he descended.

He pressed a kiss just below your belly button through the fabric of your dress, fingers kneading into your thighs as a husky chuckle escaped his lips.

“You don’t have to fight anymore.”


	17. Rapture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the hold Rapture Sherlock got me in is criminal. I’m just wondering what he would’ve done for the reader for Valentine’s Day, if they even celebrated it in the 1800’s. Probably some sweet shit and give her the best dick of the century. Got her second guessing if she really hate this man or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Valentine's Day

“Alright...”

You stumbled a bit, but Sherlock’s hand on your arm kept you from falling. His other covered your eyes, your lashes fluttering against his palm every time your face twitched. You had only just returned to the estate after being on the road for months. It seemed like every time he solved one case, Sherlock was being pulled into another town to solve another.

The demand for the great Sherlock Holmes was high.

It was just fine with you though. The more preoccupied he was, the less time and energy he had to put his hands on you. Somehow, it did not deter him as much as you would have liked. The bear of a man could never seem to get enough of you, and despite your personal feelings about him, it seemed that your body could never get enough of him as well anytime he got his hands on you.

He forced you to stop, and you shuddered as you felt his chest graze your back. Sherlock dropped his hand, and you blinked, the setting sun taking some time to get used to. It took you a moment to comprehend what you were seeing, but when you finally did, your lips parted.

“I had it built whilst we were away,” he told you.

You had not even realized that you had taken a small step forward, slowly followed by another and another, until you heard Sherlock’s own soft footfalls as he followed you.

It was a gazebo. A small white gazebo with the most adorable roof and the most adorable benches decorated with your favorite flowers.

“I figured it would be a nice place for you to sit and read...or just relax.”

The gazebo was planted in the middle of the trees, deep within the backyard, and you took it all in with awe, agreeing with his reasoning. That particular train of thought had you swallowing, a frown forming.

“There are some new books for you in the house,” he said as soon as you turned to face him. “Your favorite meal is being cooked as we speak-.”

“Stop.”

He frowned, the childlike confusion on his face making your heart clench.

“I do not-?”

“Stop, just stop. Stop it!”

Your face crumbled before you could help yourself, and Sherlock, now alarmed, hurried towards you. You turned away from him, feet carrying you towards the grand Valentine’s Day gift. You caught yourself against one of the pillars, lips trembling as you leaned against it, hugging yourself to it.

“Y/N,” he murmured, hand meeting your shoulder.

“Stop,” you loudly repeated as you spun to face him.

His blue eyes were wide with alarm and concern.

“Stop...buying me things and making me things and kissing me and...”

You swallowed, glancing away.

“Stop being so good to me,” you whispered.

You flinched when he pulled you to him, fingers pressing into your arms. Frustration and sorrow swirled in his eyes, and he gazed at you almost pleadingly.

“What do I have to do? Hmm? What must I do to make you believe that I love you? That I stole you away because I have never yearned, have never _ached_ for anyone as I have you. Shall I cut my own heart out so that you may see how it only beats for you?”

You shook your head, refusing to hear a word of what he was saying, despite how much it made your heart race.

“I love you-.”

“You cannot.”

“I do!”

His voice was the loudest you had ever heard him. Despite his large form that would hint towards otherwise, Sherlock was a rather soft spoken man. He did not yell nor demean nor intimidate if he could help it, so his loud sharp tone had your eyes widening. 

His hands cupped your face, bringing you closer until his forehead touched yours. A stray curl of his tickled your skin, and you swallowed as he drew circles into your cheeks with his thumbs.

“I love you with every fiber of my being,” he quietly told you, and you shook your head. “I do. I do, and it was never a choice...the thought of otherwise was never an option. I could not have stopped myself even if I wished it.”

“Sherlock-.”

“You burn me time and time again,” he groaned, but the way he said it gave the impression that he was not at all upset. “...and yet, I would happily allow you to turn me into the same ash from whence we came. To make what you will of me.”

It felt as if all of your breath had left you, and you released a shaky breath, blinking at him.

“That...that does not sound healthy.”

Sherlock hummed, eyes falling closed as his lips brushed along yours.

“I never said it was, only that I love you.”

You gasped when his mouth covered yours completely, his arms wrapping around you as he forced you to stumble back. You felt yourself falling, but it soon became clear that that was his intention as he laid you down onto the wooden floor of the gazebo, his large form settling over you. He groaned against your lips, hands sliding under your dress, fingers eager, trousers straining. 

“I want your first memory of this place to be a vivid one.”


End file.
